


No Mercy For You

by escence



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (it's manhunt they're gonna fight), Alternative Universe - Minecraft Manhunt, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Arson, Attempted Murder, Blood and Violence, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Don't worry about it :), Eventual Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Hurt Dream, Magic, Manhunt with Plot, Minecraft Manhunt, Minecraft but in real life, Minor Character Death, Misunderstandings, More tags to be added (?), My beta is literally grammarly, Near Death Experiences, Night Terrors, Panic Attacks, Platonic Relationships, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Swearing, Threats of Violence, like a lot of swearing, no beta we die like george in the end, sorry bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28632624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escence/pseuds/escence
Summary: He saw the blurry silhouette of a woman, tiny from how far away he was now but still visible enough to make out the fact that she was clearly wealthy and extremely furious.“I want a bounty on his head. 500 emeralds, dead or alive. Did you hear me? Go do it!” She asserted, words becoming less and less comprehensible as he ran further and further away, she quickly became an angry blip on the horizon as he brought his attention back to the world in front of him, the smell of fresh flora and Tree sap filling his senses.He scoffed as he allowed himself to slow down, his previous sprint turning into a brisk walk, 500 emeralds was overkill even for the rich, no chance the book he stole was even worth over half as much as that even with the secrets it contained, she was bluffing, right?---Or; Minecraft Manhunt finally has plotDream has to reach the end with the clock rapidly ticking and some familiar faces stalking his every move. With his past right on his tail will he finally drown in an ocean of regret and pain or valiantly surface? No mercy for the wicked.
Relationships: Antfrost & Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Manhunt Crew
Comments: 19
Kudos: 89





	1. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew he was out of time to think when he heard the booming footsteps of his pursuers approaching once again; he had empty hopes they’d give up after he left their sight in a flash of green, black and white, but it seemed he was disastrously wrong.
> 
> His sharp nails digging into the soft skin of his knuckles, leaving blood dripping down his hands.
> 
> Turning around to face the brick wall that he despised with his whole heart he begged his mind to come up with something, anything, to get him out of this situation with his life, the approaching footsteps serving like the tick of a clock in a silent room, reminding him of the approaching deadline to his demise.
> 
> He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he let his arms fall back to his side, blood dripping soundlessly to the floor in small quantities. Ignoring it and the sting, he smoothly unsheathed his iron sword. He had a plan, but he had to fight for it, his chances of executing it successfully being low but he had to take the chance.
> 
> It was all he had.

Dream’s legs burned as he struggled to slide down the brick wall without agitating his raw wounds, the tears in his eyes building up and threatening to spill over as a harsh hiss choked painfully out of his sensitive throat, he harshly yanked the worn bandages over the fresh wound on his upper arm, wrapping it securely with quick and practised hands. Checking himself over for any other major injuries with shaky and bloodstained fingers, he tore the smiley mask off of his face, more of a boiling hot prison rather than a sanctuary of safety right now. His recently gained possession resting on the rough grey concrete beside him, glaring up at him, purple spirals on the front cover dancing neatly in uncoordinated patterns.

Reaching for the book and grabbing it with calloused hands, he slowly brought it up to his chest, his arms aching at the movement despite the almost startling lightness of it.

This was it, the object he’s been hunting down for years with little to no success until now. The relief and joy filling his body were enough to make him laugh breathlessly through the sharp pain it caused. Running his fingers across the front cover was as if he was dragging them through ice-cold water, smile growing wider at the prickly zaps the action gave him on the tips of his fingers. He doubted himself after all this time, even after hearing the rampant bedtime stories and whispered rumours of The Nether throughout his entire life, but with documented evidence resting in his very hands all his doubts disappeared, melting into a pool of joy and hope.

He felt the delight drain out of him like a switch was flipped. Loud and exasperated voices echoed in the empty alleyway he sat in, adrenaline filling his veins and drowning his thoughts.

Almost tripping over himself in his rush to stand up, he snatched his silver stitched emerald green cloak from the floor with a loose grip, moving it to rest in the crook of his uninjured arm. His shaking hands struggling to clip his newly acquired book into his belt strap alongside his smaller potions, the round glasses making a soft clinking sound against each other as they’re forced to make room for the book, pink liquid sloshing around the insides. His now free left hand worked hastily to pull his cloak over his head as the chains holding the separated fabric together shook at his impatience.

Hands moving downwards towards his mask still smiling up at him from the ground he gripped and moved it up to his face, manoeuvring his fingers to grip the sides of his mask ribbons as he pulled them taught around the back of his head with impatient hands, finding comfort in the disguise and stoicism the mask provided as he hid the ribbons under his hair.

Stiffly resting his right palm on the hilt of his iron sword which sat in his baldric he took in a deep breath, the searing fresh air like a punch to his lungs as he stood frozen in place, his feeble attempts to squeeze the fear out of his shaking body through his white-knuckled clutch on his sword becoming useless at the sight of multiple shadows ahead, the sunset over the horizon multiplying the shapes tenfold into malformed beasts.

Thinking on the fly, Dream swiftly turned around and ran in the opposite direction, the sound echoing as loud voices picked up from behind him in a mix of irritation and bloodlust as the clink of swords knocking against each other inspired him to run faster.

The twists and turns of the maze-like alley becoming sharper and narrower as he fought to control his momentum just avoiding crashing into a sharp corner at every turn, breathing felt like he was inhaling sharp shards of glass as his feet throbbed with red-hot pain in the confinement of his worn-down black boots. He was getting away, though he may be running with his tail between his legs at least he’d walk away with his head still firmly on his neck.

Swiftly turning down a narrow and sharp right Dream painfully planted his boots hard into the solid concrete floor, sending a sharp bout of pain from his feet bouncing all throughout his body, ripping a shrill hiss from his overused throat. It was a dead-end, a 10 ft tall, worn down red-bricked wall mocking him simply by being there. Briskly spinning around he scanned the area where he had just came from with experienced eyes, searching some sort of secret exit he may have overlooked in his rush, the magic placed on his mask all those years ago allowing him to see crystal clearly, almost as if he didn’t even have it on.

Dream could feel sweat building up under the confinement of his black turtleneck, long cloak sleeves brushing against each other as he squeezed his palms together, a nervous habit of his as the pressure grounded his panicking thoughts. He knew he was out of time to think when he heard the booming footsteps of his pursuers approaching once again; he had empty hopes they’d give up after he left their sight in a flash of green, black and white, but it seemed he was disastrously wrong.

His sharp nails digging into the soft skin of his knuckles, leaving blood dripping down his hands.

Turning around to face the brick wall that he despised with his whole heart he begged his mind to come up with something, anything, to get him out of this situation with his life, the approaching footsteps serving like the tick of a clock in a silent room, reminding him of the approaching deadline to his demise.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he let his arms fall back to his side, blood dripping soundlessly to the floor in small quantities. Ignoring it and the sting, he smoothly unsheathed his iron sword. He had a plan, but he had to fight for it, his chances of executing it successfully being low but he had to take the chance.

It was all he had.

He took in a shaky deep breath at the sound of slowing footsteps behind him, the cold air numbing his mind and coming out in a fog of dragon’s breath in front of him despite the mask, mumbled insults filling the air as someone harshly screeched.

“Surrender yourself and the book! Thief, if you comply, I can guarantee your survival for another day. If you refuse, we will attack.” The man barked, thick accent curling around his words. His threat sounded more like a promise as Dream turned around to face the small crowd.

The bearded man who had threatened him stood proudly at the front of the crowd of 4, shoulders and chin held as high as his obvious ego and clear age. The others surrounding him held a mix of swords, torches and pitchforks as if this were a witch-hunt rather than a robbery.

Dream wondered about who he fucked with today and whether the effort was even worth it as he positioned his sword in front of himself. The bearded man’s lip twitched In understanding, he turned towards his colleagues and nodded stiffly.

The first person who charged at him was a fool, severely underestimating his skill set as the jogging person raised their stone sword with a wicked smile on their face. Dream promptly sidestepped their wild swing and brutally brought down the pommel of his sword onto the back of the person’s neck, their harsh coughs penetrating his ears as the smell of fresh blood filled the air and infected his lungs.

A sharp temperature change sent alarms blaring in his mind as he snapped his head up and away from the bent-over figure, the sight of a madly swung mismatch of orange and yellow filling his vision as he barely stepped backwards in time to avoid the jarring blow, breathing quickening ripping air in and out of his lungs faster then he could keep up with.

Blood rushing in his ears as the heavy torch made flaming bludgeon swung dangerously in his direction once again, mind going blank as he ducked, sparking flame swung precariously above his head, almost searing his blonde curls in warning.

Taking his chance kicked the right leg of the person brandishing the torch, a loud hiss in shock and pain choked out of their throat as they struggled to regain their balance fast enough, he advanced behind them and knocked them to their hands and knees with his elbow.

They let out a harsh cry as they fell flat onto the floor, choked coughs and winces of pain coming from the shaking body. Dream rapidly turned his attention towards the remaining 3 people, confident he wouldn’t make the same mistake again of being caught off guard. He hoped that they were as dumb as their friends. A dull spark of disappointment made him stiffen as all three of them charged at once, a coordinated attack, the bearded man glaring at him as he brandished his iron sword.

Dream shuffled backwards until his back was almost resting on the brick wall, eyes studying the rapidly approaching group with a sharp gaze, the loud clang of his and the bearded man’s swords clashing caused him to wince, the vibration of the hit shaking his wrist ever so slightly. The wild smile on the bearded mans face widening as a feral look entered his eyes, Dream felt his heartbeat stutter as he realized what that entailed, the new sword on his left cutting the air cleanly as it headed for his neck.

He panicked as he stumbled backwards, air leaving his lungs at the harsh impact of the wall. sword missing his throat by mere inches leaving him gasping for air in a dazed panic, eyes blown wide and his entire body shivering.

The bearded man stepped forward as he lowered his sword, kicking Dream directly in the middle of his stomach, causing pain to blossom across his abdomen. Bending over as raspy cough was cruelly ripped from his throat by his own body, he spat blood onto the concrete floor, his arms moving to wrap around his stomach protectively, sword tip roughly grating across the floor.

“Give in” Chuckled a voice from above him “We’ll spare you, you’ve already lost!” multiple voices joined in on belittling him from either side, already claiming their victory. Dream glared at the floor with a look that could kill men as he continued to cough uncontrollably, the feeling of a sharp blade being pressed against his neck through the fabric of his turtleneck shaking him out of his thoughts.

 _“Fuck you”_ Dream spat out to the joy of those above him, laughter filling the air as the pressure of the blade disappeared from his neck, the promise of death staining his tongue.

He choked in his haze of panic and crashed into the person in front of him; the sword cutting empty air where he was previously standing, stumbling and landing in a heap on the ground, the bearded man yelling in an incompressible language below him. Acting fast Dream stood up, moving unceremoniously behind the bent over shell shocked man with their sword in front of them in the open air as he swiftly jumped onto their back, boots digging into their spine as their sharp scream pierced the air and the ears of those around them. He grimaced in guilt as he hastily leapt towards the top of the wall, hands gripping it like a lifeline as he used all of his remaining strength to yank himself up and drop over the top landing on two feet on the other side, the pain of the impact spreading through his legs as he took off towards the market ahead, leaving loud yelling behind him.

Apologizing breathlessly to the villagers he pushed and shoved around to make a path for himself he smiled, ignoring their protests his grin widened victoriously at the sight of the plains rapidly approaching, the market thinning out more and more with each step, the beautiful mix of purple and blue spreading out across the horizon welcomed him like an old friend.

He pushed the last villager in his way to the side and was free, obstacles taken down as he pumped his legs to run faster than he ever had before, the whistling of the wind filling his ears alongside his rapid heartbeat.

His wide smile was quickly wiped off his face at the sound of a shrill scream coming from behind him, legs refusing to stop lest he fall he craned his head to look behind him.

He saw the blurry silhouette of a woman, tiny from how far away he was now but still visible enough to make out the fact that she was clearly wealthy and extremely furious.

“I want a bounty on his head. 500 emeralds, dead or alive. Did you hear me? Go do it!” She asserted, words becoming less and less comprehensible as he ran further and further away, she quickly became an angry blip on the horizon as he brought his attention back to the world in front of him, the smell of fresh flora and Tree sap filling his senses.

He scoffed as he allowed himself to slow down, his previous sprint turning into a brisk walk, 500 emeralds was overkill even for the rich, no chance the book he stole was even worth over half as much as that even with the secrets it contained, she was bluffing, _right?_


	2. Burning Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dull light peeked out from the treeline ahead, followed by dull and exasperated voices echoing out across the empty forest, the owners sounding tired and exhausted.
> 
> “Remind me again why we couldn’t wait until morning to start hunting?”
> 
> So he was being hunted. She wasn’t bluffing, and it terrified him. Unable to stop his body from shaking he bit his lip, nails digging into his palms, only being able to reduce the shaking to minimal levels instead of the usual violent. How was he being hunted? He needed to have left something behind to be tracked, but he could swear he made sure he had everything. . . the ache of his knuckles reminding him of what he had forgotten, the now dull bruise on his stomach a secondary reminder.
> 
> Blood, he’d left his blood behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for this chapter!!  
> \- sickness/ (almost) vomiting mention  
> \- slight self harm  
> (read the tags again as they've been updated slightly)
> 
> I went over the first chapter and edited it slightly as I spotted a few mistakes and things so you're welcome to re-read it (I suggest doing so but it's not necessary)

Book in one hand and a small loaf of bread in the other Dream smiled gently, mask pulled up to rest comfortably on the side of his head as his eyes surveyed both items in his hands as if they were pure diamonds sparkling mischievously, tempting him to finally pick one to indulge in. It had been over 4 hours since he had jumped over the red brick wall and made a mad dash for the open plains, now empty pink-coloured potion glass clinking softly against his last full one, the book that caused him all this trouble swaying side to side in his impatience as he ran earlier.

Looking up at the visible stars through the delicate fluttering leaves of the tree he rested in, he allowed himself to relax for the first time that night, loosening muscles that he didn’t even know were taught. He stretched his legs out across the long and wide wooden branch, scratching them with the movement, only his upper thighs safe from the harsh tree bark thanks to the flexible black fabric of his loose shorts. Ignoring the slight spark of pain the action caused, he brought the pastry up towards his face and took a bite out of it, relishing in the fresh burst of flavour it gave compared to the old taste of copper in his mouth.

He couldn’t afford to risk it on the floor of the forest with his lack of torches and healing potions, the sweet buzz in the back of his mind alongside the small tingles on his skin serving as a cruel reminder of his last remaining potion as the occasional hiss of a stray creeper startled him out of his thoughts. Sometimes he would feel piercing eyes glaring at his head when his back turned, catching fleeting glimpses of purple irises stalking him in the shadows of the night before disappearing with a soft vwoop when he attempted to catch them in the act.

Dream took another bite, tongue turning bitter just like his thoughts as his stomach churned and muscles stiffened once again. What if she wasn’t bluffing? 500 emeralds were pushing the boundaries of something to spend on a bounty even for a book such as this, if she didn’t say that to scare him into running towards the village with his metaphorical tail between his legs as he begged for forgiveness then he was fucked, any hunter with a brain in their skull would jump for the opportunity to hunt him down for that kind of reward.

Dead or alive was the call, it was easier to capture the dead.

He dropped the remaining piece of bread down to sit in his lap, bitter taste on his tongue turning acidic as he brought his hand to his mouth and closed his eyes. Painfully swallowing the fresh bile back down his burning throat, his stomach churning in uneasiness as he reached for his satchel resting neatly above his potions under his cloak, the strap across his chest feeling like heavy chains compressing his breathing and encouraging the bile to come up his already wrecked throat one again. Snatching his water from the satchel with shaky fingers he chugged half the bottle down in under 4 seconds, coughing at the sensation and almost dropping the book he forgot he had in his right hand during his haze of panic.

Gripping the book with more ferocity than before Dream took in a deep breath, counting down from 5 before opening his eyes once again, breathing under control and the panic in his mind reduced to a simmering flame, waiting patiently for the next time he was vulnerable.

Putting the water back inside his satchel and picking up the leftover piece of bread to put alongside the water for later he let both hands take ahold of the book, purple cover now dimly glowing in the darkness of his surroundings, lighter purple spirals dancing around unbothered by the scene it just witnessed, bouncing around happily as he settled his fingers on the cover once again.

Sharply inhaling at the cold sensation that engulfed his fingertips as he allowed his fingers to dance over the cover once again, despite doing this once before Dream got enamoured by the feeling every time, if he could sit there for the rest of his days allowing his fingers to roam freely over the cover revelling In the strange sensation he would.

Giving in to his burning curiosity he allowed himself to move on from the cover to the first page of the book, already missing the cold sensation as he turned the cover and was met with the first page, an almost childlike excitement took over as he ran his dumb over the intricately written letters, letters from another language.

Dream had spent his entire childhood preparing for this moment, milking every bedtime story out of his parents until it was his last, savouring every detail like a hungry lion and storing it away for later in his mental prison. Growing up with ancient language and mythology books instead of playing outside with the other kids. He caused his parents to worry often; they thought he couldn’t overhear their hushed conversations at night when he was supposed to be sleeping. He wished he told them what he’d heard before it was too late; he wished he told them a lot of things.

Maybe if he wasn’t so selfish things would be different.

Biting his lip, he forced his thoughts back down to the open page in front of him, intricately shaped letters staring back up at him in a language he recognized, galactic. He allowed himself to smile once more as all other thoughts drifted out of his mind, focusing solely on the book, dimly glowing pages allowing him to read in the night's darkness.

‘ _Hell. That’s the one word I’d use to describe The Nether.‘_

He stared in confusion at the first few words, _Hell?_ The Nether was a place of legends and adventures, not suffering, right? curiosity tugging at him to continue reading, falling back into his previous excitement easily.

_The legendary landscape sought by adventurers such as myself described as a land of dreams, only if the stories were correct as the hell-space haunts me like a dreadful nightmare. The screeches of creatures beyond human knowledge as fire rained down on me from the sky in flashes of white, screeches loud and distorted enough to ingrain in my memory for the rest of my days._

_Leaving the first page of this journal free for my future self was the smartest idea I’ve ever had, now being able to warn adventurers much like myself who sought the treasures The Nether held. It’s not worth it, it’ll never be worth it, I’m reminded of that every day as I look into my mirror and see the scorch marks scarring my skin._

_The treasures I was promised were never delivered to me by my rigorous hunting in The Nether, I returned empty-handed but it felt like I had held the weight of the world in my shoulders. My adventure feeling like nothing more than a bad dream._

_Oh, how I wish every day that it was._

_The Nether is an inhumane place for creatures banished from our world for good reasoning, I wish that I dared to burn this book and all my findings alongside it but I can’t. Every time I hold it up to an open flame I tremble, my limbs turning into jelly as my mind moves at the speed of light, galactic and English mixing in my incoherent thoughts._

_Trying to drown this cursed book did nothing alongside other methods. Whenever I thought it’d finally disappeared forever it’d show up on my desk the next morning. Stupid fucking purple spirals mocking me, The Nether did something to this book as if it wasn’t hard to tell already. I wish that I had a companion to burn it for me but I’m doomed to spend the rest of my life in solitude, I’m partially glad for that despite yearning for another, I don’t think they could handle the weight of my burdens._

_Whoever is reading this now I’m begging you to burn this book, by turning the page you’ll make a decision that you’ll regret for the rest of your life, give all of this up and live a respectful life._

_Don’t waste it all on horror stories disguised as fairytales._

Blinking at the page, Dream re-read over the last sentence in disbelief. All the stories he was told were fake? The Nether consisting of magical creatures just waiting to be discovered in crimson forests of beauty were violent? Disbelief filled his mind as worry caused him to bite at his lip.

He couldn’t afford to back down now, not with the possible bounty on his head for stealing this thing in the first place, not with the sacrifices he’s made just to be standing here right now. Cautiously turning the page, his eyes widened at the diagrams filling the pages. Words written wildly across the pages as instructions were showed clearly, arrows linking them to diagrams.

Making a Nether portal was his next step. Of course, The Nether needed a portal, it made sense. Why didn’t he think of that earlier? Joy clouded over the worry in his mind as it finally filled blanks in his mind after all these years.

Shifting his position on the tree branch to one more comfortable, he froze, blood draining out of his face as his breathing quickened. Slowly closing the glowing book and strapping it once again to his belt, covering it with his cloak causing the light source he had to disappear, leaving him in pitch-black darkness with only the dull stars mocking him from above.

Dream pulled his mask down and brought his knees to his chest slowly, resting his elbows on them as he sat silently in his sanctuary in the trees.

A dull light peeked out from the treeline ahead, followed by dull and exasperated voices echoing out across the empty forest, the owners sounding tired and exhausted.

“Remind me again why we couldn’t wait until morning to start hunting?”

So he was being hunted. She wasn’t bluffing, and it terrified him. Unable to stop his body from shaking he bit his lip, nails digging into his palms, only being able to reduce the shaking to minimal levels instead of the usual violent. How was he being hunted? He needed to have left something behind to be tracked, but he could swear he made sure he had everything. . . the ache of his knuckles reminding him of what he had forgotten, the now dull bruise on his stomach a secondary reminder.

 **Blood** , he’d left his blood behind.

Stopping himself from letting out a string of curses, Dream focused on breathing through his mouth and only his mouth, hands gripping his knees uncomfortably, leaving bruises behind. Pupils blown wide as he strained his ears to hear their conversation.

“Because by getting on this earlier we’ll have more luck collecting the bounty! The less competition the easier it’ll be for us, plus, he can’t be too far from the village it’s only been a few hours, we’ll reach him soon enough.”

“If his bounty is 500 emeralds Bad, he won’t be easy to collect. Maybe we should’ve just rested for the night.”

“Just trust me, okay? He can’t be that hard to capture, I have a plan! If we can’t find him in 2 hours we’ll rest.”

The groans of the group reverberated across the forest, their light approaching dangerously close to his tree as he struggled to count their silhouettes from his position. There were 3? No. Four hunters moving toward him unsuspectingly. With their unbothered and slouchy mannerisms, he deduced that they weren’t professionals at their jobs, failing to be on guard at all times.

Dream watched silently as the group approached, faces still unclear as his body stopped shaking. Pure instinct taking over as he waited for an opportunity to escape, group stopping right below his tree staring down at compasses in their hands spinning madly in a circle.

“Is it broken? Why is it doing that” Muttered the one to the left, tapping the compass with their free hand, not holding a torch.

“Shush! He’s here.”

The one in the middle with a hood over his head pointed upwards and then downwards, the rest of the group nodding in understanding as they crept around the tree, hunting for any signs he left behind.

Dream couldn’t see their faces.

The torches they held obscured them, every time one of them moved the stupid stick giving him a chance to glance at one of their faces they’d turn away. Walking in the other direction, leaving him with only the back of their heads to work with.

Bandana walked with purpose, confidence as he kneeled to the floor, seemingly already deciding that he was underground rather than above him. Resting his hand comfortably on his sword as he whipped his torch around wildly, as if Dream would pop up from the ground at any moment.

The Hooded One walked carefully, with calculated movements as he studied the tree itself, choosing to ignore the ground and the branches above sticking comfortably to the middle ground.

Goggles was suspicious, turning around every so often to stare off into the tree-line, untrusting of the darkness and everything it contained. Taking his position on the other side of his tree to glance at the branches above, he was grateful that he’d chosen this side of the tree to rest on tonight.

Cat ears was smart, reaching down at the ground to grasp at the dirt as if it held secrets that nobody knew but him. Ears twitching every so often as one of his teammates moved around the tree, Dream put extra focus into staying dead silent.

The small group reminded him of his past, of people and memories he left behind, he didn’t like it. It made his heart ache for something impossible and his mind confused. He just hoped they’d give up on him, leave him alone to survive another night.

Looking back towards hood he met pure white eyes staring back at his, the owner’s mouth agape as Dream’s throat hurt, it felt raw, all the air in his lungs suddenly gone as the grip he had on himself disappeared within seconds. Oh, he distantly realized within the chaos of his mind.

He was screaming.


	3. Flaming Inferno

All he could stare at were those pure white eyes.

One pair of eyes out many that haunted him in his dreams and recurring nightmares, causing him to wake up in a cold sweat shivering for something he no longer had. Those eyes that stalked his memory, waiting until he was at his most unguarded, attacking him with bouts of guilt that left tears running down his face for hours, regret coursing through his veins. Those days were the most painful.

He recognized those eyes.

He realized someone was moving from out of the corner of his eyes, attention rapidly moving from one pair of eyes to another. This next pair of eyes was white with maroon like pupils, there was a sort of spark behind those eyes, a small flame burning strong waiting to set aflame into a roaring inferno once again.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized the one with maroon eyes was yelling at him, they were all arguing. His throat felt raw, maybe someone had taken sandpaper and forced him to swallow it, the wetness on his cheeks under his mask adding to the uncomfortable sensation. _Was he crying?_.

The sound of metal against metal snapped him out of his stupor, eyes snapping to the sword now in maroon eyes’ hands. He knew who that was.

Sapnap stalked him from below. The determination in those eyes scared him, the small fire in them sparking in anticipation as if he was stalking his prey. Dream shuffled backwards, the glare making him want to run as fast as he could in any direction but his, pure instincts taking over as he watched Sapnap for any movement.

He only realized his mistake when he started falling.

The worried cries of the group below him being one of the few sounds filling his ears alongside the whistling of the wind and roaring sound of his blood rushing. ‘ _Worried? Why would they worry?’_ was the last thought he had before he hit the ground, an abrupt crack penetrating the air around him and reverberating inside his skull, lightning sharp pain shooting up his arm and bouncing all across his body. It was as if someone lit a raging fire right inside his body, beginning from his right arm and sparking all around and through his veins. His mind painfully numb as he choked a harsh sob out of his already tender throat.

Through the blur in his eyes he noticed a group gathering around him, muffled whispers filling his ears as he struggled to process everything, waves of pain filling his mind with cotton as he struggled to get up with only one arm.

 **Dead or alive** he repeated in his head like a mantra, clinging onto the words as if they were a lifeline as even harsher pangs of agony radiated across his body, fresh tears trailing down his face and spilling out beneath the gap in his mask, turtleneck soaked where it rested tightly around his neck. He didn’t care about his appearance, nor did he care about the pain.

He didn’t want to die; he was willing to do almost anything to ensure that he didn’t.

His boots dug into the soft dirt floor, flattened from his fall as he shakily stood up, right arm cradled softly to his chest. The surrounding voices went silent, attention back on him as he struggled to breathe, the world spinning around him as his head pounded in tune with his arm. Bile threatened to crawl up his throat for the third time today, he faintly realized with dull irritation that he’d get the worst of it later as he took off ahead, knocking shoulders with one of the hunters creating a ripple effect of intensifying agony to pulsate through his body. Almost stumbling over his own feet he pushed ahead into the threatening darkness, loud cries echoing from behind him alongside approaching footfalls.

Dream pushed himself further than he ever had before, legs aching and vision spinning as white stars twinkled at the corners of his vision. Jumping over a stray log he hissed, biting down on his lip as he reached for his last remaining regeneration potion and uncorked the top with the edge of the book. He wouldn’t be able to get any more of them at least not from the Overworld for a long time, the bounty on his head too high to trade in villages for even a drop of the magic substance without risking his head, he grimaced before downing the whole glass and throwing it behind him causing a squeak from one of his pursuers as it smashed. Light numbing feeling already settling over his mind and body, bones slowly but steadily weaving themselves back together as the stars on the corners of his vision disappeared, world righting itself once again. The potion would take time to repair and stich together his injuries, for now, he couldn’t afford to get into any fights reversing all the healing it had already done to his injuries, using his newfound energy he pumped his legs and clenched his teeth, the whistling of the wind whipping past his ears as his cloak wildly thrashed behind him.

He felt a spark of hope reignite in his mind as a river reflected the star-speckled sky from up ahead, soft ripples moving smoothly across the top, disrupting the still surface. Ant couldn’t cross rivers, he hated water with all his heart and soul, meaning he could get rid of one of them without hurting them. He made a beeline straight for the river.

He forced himself to take in a deep breath as the cold water brushed against his bare legs sending shivers throughout his body, arm flaming up once again in sparks of pain forcing him to wince, regeneration potion quickly working to stamp out the sparks until a soft numbing filled his bones once again. 

Walking through the water felt like wading through a flaming inferno of pure ice, everything was too hot yet too cold at the same time as he attempted to stop the loud chattering of his teeth, the sensations overwhelming him as the other side drew nearer, the water moved to freeze his mid-thighs.

He stumbled out of the river, free arm moving to wrap around himself as he shivered at the whiplash the wind mixed with the dripping water still soaking his legs gave him. He turned around to stare at his approaching opponents as he slowly took shaky steps backwards, preferring to observe from afar.

The group stopped at the edge of the lake, Sapnap immediately jumped in without hesitation, biting down on his lip as he rushed to cross the lake, torch held high above him with his sword in his other hand. Dream turned around and took off once again, barely spotting George shivering in despair as he followed Sapnap from behind while Ant lingered hesitantly near the river’s edge, Bad by his side staring at Dreams back as if evaluating him and his every move sending shivers up his spine.

Dream could feel the exhaustion sinking into his bones as he weaved through the trees, a side effect of the regeneration potion and all the moving he’d done today with little to no rest. He was tired, and he wasn’t sure how long he could push on for, every step adding to the weight that seemed to pile unendingly higher on his shoulders as if he’d suddenly become the titan Atlas himself. 

Stumbling over his own feet as a tremble reverberated from the ground below and up through his body, a sharp yelp piercing the air around him followed by a call of distress. Eyes blown wide Dream span around uncaring of the consequences, blood turning cold at the sight before him.

George lay at the bottom of a pit, stray pieces of dirt and stone scattered around the clearing. Sapnap held George in his arms, he wasn’t unmoving as he groaned softly in Sapnap’s arms, a look of worry on the formers face as he scanned the older for any injuries with kind eyes. 

Dream grimaced at the minor cuts scattered all over the older boy’s body, caused by either the stray rocks flung around at the explosion or the explosion itself. They were enough to put the brunet out of any hard labour for a day or two with no potion but not enough to permanently injure him. 

He let out a shaky sigh, a mixture of guilt, regret and worry forcing him to stay glued to the spot where he stood. He stood there watching George with an anxious stare, completely frozen as he knew he shouldn’t take a step forward, wasn’t permitted to take a step forward. After all, he couldn’t know them. His heart ached as he was warned of that once again as Sapnap’s head snapped up to look at him, weak green eyes clashing against a crimson fire beneath the mask as he held protectively onto his friend. Dream took a step back, injured arm still clutched tightly to his chest, tingling consistently at a rapid pace. Sapnap thought he was going to _hurt_ George? Sorrowfully in the back of his mind he realized it made sense, but even then the thought of hurting anyone from the group of four made him dizzy, throat closing up as he choked over words unspoken.

George pulled on the sleeves of Sapnap’s black shirt, all attention immediately diverted back to George as he whispered something incoherent in Sapnap’s ear. The emotions on Sapnap’s face changing from panicked to hesitance to nothing, a blank slate as he turned to look at Dream once again, slowly resting George back on the ground again as he reached for his iron sword which lay on the ground next to him threateningly, reflecting the orange and yellows of the torch he still held firmly in his left hand. 

Sapnap abruptly stood up, climbing out of the pit roughly impaling the torch into the ground, George shakily pulling a potion out of his crossbody leather bag and downing the pink substance all in one go. Sapnap stood in front of him, both hands gripping the sharp sword as he stared at Dream with a ferocious intensity, almost as if he could see the dull green eyes behind the mask.

Dream shivered, body aching as his eyes threatened to close once again, his exhaustion lingering over him like an hourglass to his downfall, each drop of the sand adding another heavyweight onto his shoulders, weighing him down until he finally collapses on the cold wet dirt, being dragged away effortlessly to his death by the people he held dearest. 

He couldn’t back away now, running away into the darkness would force Sapnap to chase him leaving George behind, injured and vulnerable to more dangerous mobs, Ant and Bad too far behind to hear his final cries and too far to save him, he would die. Dream reached for his sword with his uninjured arm and brought it in front of him, taking on a more defensive stance as Sapnap smirked at the movement. He took a deep breath in, _he could do this,_ he had an advantage; Dream knew Sapnap, knew how he fought, knew how he moved and knew his weaknesses. He took a deep breath out, he wouldn’t hurt Sapnap, he was going to tire him out.

Sapnap made the first move, cutting the air with his sword with calculated precision and power as it collided with nothing, Dream had moved out of the way in time. His breathing turned shaky as he processed the close call, Sapnap’s attacks were powerful and dangerous, relying on the strength he put behind his attacks alongside calculated movements to push him into victory.

Sapnap moved again, this time in quick succession as Dream struggled to dodge and parry in time with the man. It was like they were dancing, Sapnap reaching in to end the dance just as Dream moved away smoothly, the dance continuing under the moonlight not so magnificent as they painted it to be.

Sapnap movements slowed, the bite behind his attacks disappearing more and more with every swing as Dream felt the last drops of the hourglass fall as he swayed on his feet, moving to match Sapnap’s slower-paced attacks. He had to leave now or risk execution; the idea backed up by George moving to sit up behind Sapnap and readjust his goggles until they sat right on his face, most of the minor cuts that lingered across his body already gone. Soon Sapnap was going to have a helping hand in their battle and maybe even 2 more as distant silhouettes holding dim light sources bounced slowly on the now somewhat brighter horizon, the pair close enough now for it to be dangerous. 

Dream parried one last attack from Sapnap before advancing into his space, the shock clear on Sapnap’s face as dream pushed Sapnap to the ground, his soft grunt filling the air as his sword fell to the floor with a sharp clang. 

Dream swiftly turned around and took off once again, insults of anger and disbelief being yelled at his back as he stumbled on the harsh forest floor. His legs felt like jelly and his brain felt like it was dissolving into mush, thoughts turning incoherent as he slowed down, the hourglass close to running out. A dull light peeked out from behind the trees ahead, an unnerving feeling settling in his gut as he jogged towards it, sparks of hope rekindling as he approached.

He smelt it before he saw it, the putrid smell of death intruding his senses and causing him to gag. Walking into a stray cobweb, choking as he finally saw it, the remains of a village haunted by ghosts of the past. Soft groans and moans coming from every corner of the village, echoing in his ears. Shaking his head he stumbled ahead as if that’d free him of the disgusting noises. Pure black voids started back at him every time he peeked into a house from the outside, with green skin peeling off of their faces and matted dark green hair sitting unpleasantly on top. 

Soft yelling echoed from behind him, startling him out of his sleepy daze as he hastily looked around for refuge. Voices nearing, he picked the house to his left, cobwebs sticking out from under the roof as the wind chime twinkled unpleasantly in the soft breeze. This was the most put-together house so far despite its irksome appearance. He sighed and opened the door, floorboards creaking as he stepped foot inside, a low groan filling his ears and stopping his heart. In the left corner stood a zombie, trapped low enough that the creature couldn’t climb back out. Its black eyes peeking out from over the top of the floorboards were enough to make Dream shiver. Voices getting louder as Dream shut and locked the door behind him with hesitance. There was no going back now.

He staggered towards the dusty bed in the corner, red sheets dull with age as he sat down, back resting against the wall as his head slowly lulled to the side. His heartbeat becoming a soft lullaby as the voices stopped right outside his sanctuary.

_“This village gives me the creeps, the zombies keep staring at me dude”_

_“Tell me about it”_

_“He’s in here, right? Come on, let’s get him already, what’s the holdup?”_ Soft footsteps approached the door before suddenly stopping, the doorknob softly spinning before it stopped, snapping back into its original place.

_“Wait, we can’t take him back to the village now Sapnap, we’re all tired and injured in one shape or form, George looks like he’s about ready to pass out on the spot-“_

_“I’m fine! Let’s just get the bounty already-”_

_“Shush!” someone huffed, Dream would’ve laughed weakly if his throat allowed him to, “With that regeneration potion he took he should pass out any second,” someone continued “Let’s just camp nearby and come back before he wakes up, it’ll give us a chance to recuperate before heading off.”_

Hesitant voices becoming incoherent continued to argue behind the closed door, Dream allowed himself to fall into the comfort of the bed, a soft numbing sensation completely encompassing his body before his eyes closed shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hello, as you've noticed this fic HAS been silent for awhile but my plan isn't to abandon it. I have a very tight schedule so I plan on splitting my working time into pieces in the near future whenever I can find the time to, I really enjoy this story and I have some very good plot arcs planned for the future but, it's going to take some time. Please be patient! Thanks :)


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